Another trial of brother Jero

FUNKE ADETUTU

The on going flurry of activities at the Lagos Bar Beach has caught my interest for some time now. Out of curiosity, one Sunday afternoon, I decided to visit the Bar Beach on which bank I ran as a child.
I still recall vividly that at the time, the beach shore was a melting point of different activities, be it recreational, entertainment or religious. A picnicker, a goat pepper soup seller, a musician even a prophet found a place on the Lagos beach. And as if by conspiracy, they so divided the time frame perfectly among one another, such that none disturbed the other.
Day time was for flourishing church activities - usually when prophets embarked on soul-winning campaign strategies. They usually try all they could to solicit and persuade new members to join their growing membership. Night was for the musicians, Suya and Pepper Soup sellers who expertly arrange their chairs on the sea shore in expectation of the many bank executives who top the list of their patrons. Although most times, and far into the night, many of the prophets were often still seen offering special prayers in form of exorcism for members believed to be due for deliverance or is it spiritual cleansing? Interestingly, today, a lot has changed considerably, especially since the upsurge of sea waves that threatened the millions-of-naira worth prime properties concentrated just meters away from the beach and the erosion that washed away a greater part of the beach. Unfortunately, the concrete barricade mounted on the shore in response to the ocean surge has not really helped matters as the food vendors can no longer erect their tents on the sea side.
Funny enough, as I stood on the elevated platform on the Bar Beach that Sunday afternoon, I realised that inspite of the many bashings the beach has received from the authorities, the bond of unity and love that people have for this beach is still very intact and strong. People still milled around in their tens, some even had the chance to ride on horse backs. The Bar Beach, I swear, still has its magical effects on people like the River Nile that Tayeb Salih, the Egyptian writer, talked about in his novel, A Season of Migration to the North.
And the prophets, you want to know? They were their too. Unperturbed by the barricade, they still flocked around the beach in search of faithful in need of prayer. They were equally attracted by the magic of the seas, if not for anything, at least to make more money from the fanatical members. Remember the Jero character in Wole Soyinka’s famous play, Trial of Brother Jero. The play, interestingly, is the first of his three Jero Plays. The play, I recall, is a farce that focuses on four characters - Jero, Chume, Amope and a Member of Parliament over five scenes. The main character, Jero is a beach prophet who makes his living by prophesying the future of other working class people in the vicinity. Like Jero, the prophets were confident men, tricksters and charlatans. They were the separatist Christian churches who consistently exploit the ignorance of those who run to them for spiritual guidance.
But what I found amazing that sunny afternoon was that the prophets were not the only ones who have monopolised the seaside – want to take a guess? Okay, I’ll help out. There was a group of Imams who stoop in a circle, telling their beads.
“Wonders shall never end for Lagos o!” exclaimed a lady with a mouthful of ice cream. Prophets are no longer the only ones who pray by the sea nowadays; Imams have joined the train too?”
“They have to eat too now,” replied her friend who fixed his gaze on the praying group. “The economy is so bad that they now look for any available avenue to exploit people.”
Well, since Karl Marx said religion is the opium of the masses, then, the prophets are not only the jeros but all the people who flock after them.